


unrequited

by necrosisjones



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt No Comfort, Light Angst, Multi, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrosisjones/pseuds/necrosisjones
Summary: You don’t know how it all began; you just remember looking at him one day, feeling your whole world stop, like a rug pulled from under you. You tried to fight it, tried to kill this feeling before it blooms into something more, something dangerous. Oh, how terribly you’ve failed.
Relationships: The Drifter (Destiny)/Reader, The Drifter/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	unrequited

You don’t know how it all began; you just remember looking at him one day, feeling your whole world stop, like a rug pulled from under you. You tried to fight it, tried to kill this feeling before it blooms into something more, something _dangerous_. Oh, how terribly you’ve failed. And now important matters pile up, bounties expire, but you can’t stop yourself from coming back here.

Today, once again, you find yourself sneaking through the Bazaar, away from Ikora’s watchful eyes, away from your duty. You skip a few steps along the endless stairway to get to the Annex as quickly as possible. You want to run, but you know he would laugh at your eagerness. You finally stop in the doorway, one hand resting against the wall as you try to calm your breath, stop your heart from hammering with excitement.

There he is, leaning against the railing, looking at you with that cunning smirk on his face. Your stomach twists. You can swear he sees right through you; you’re nothing but an open book to him. You wish you’ve kept your helmet on.  
  
“Welcome back,” he speaks, before you can say something to silence your thoughts.

You take your time crossing the corridor, doing your best to slow your pounding heart down at last, afraid he may hear it if you fail to do so. Your steps seem to drag on forever, and yet you find yourself before him way quicker than you’d like.

He’s all jokes and smiles, as per usual. Before you can speak up, he does a trick, makes one of his jade coins disappear right in front of your eyes, and you almost forget what you came here for. You remember it soon enough though, when he approaches you and whispers about fresh bounties, reserved for his _favorite players_. High risk, high reward, as always, and you instantly stop registering what’s being said, as always.

He’s close, so close his beard is tickling your cheek, but it’s still not enough. You want him closer, as close as possible. When it doesn’t happen, you give up fighting - you shut your eyes and let your mind do its wretched work.

For a moment, it takes you somewhere else. It’s just the two of you, alone, with no possibility of anyone interrupting you. For a moment, it’s his hand, not the handle of his gun pressing against your hip.  
 _More_. You want to latch onto these awful robes of his and never let go; you want _him_ to never let _you_ go.

There’s no way he doesn’t know, no chance he doesn’t realize it yet. You’re too obvious with the way you lean into even the slightest of his touches or how you smile when he congratulates you on your victories. You’ve never been good with subtlety, and he’s always been good at noticing details.

He has to be aware of what’s happening now, too. Perhaps that’s why he takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what will it be, hotshot?”

You blink a few times, trying your hardest to somehow recall even a word of what he just said. “What?”

“The bounties,” he repeats. “You want ‘em?”

“Yeah,” you say, before you can even think this through. “Yeah, as always. Listen, I…”

A gaggle of Guardians cuts you off before you can finish. They run into the room, loud, absorbing and you can’t help but to gasp when they push you out of the way, convinced that they don’t even notice you. You decide to withdraw to the back of the room and wait until they’re done with their buffoonery.

Every minute they’re here for feels like an eternity. It’s like they’re trying to talk his ear off, but he doesn’t seem to mind; they’re outshouting each other, reminiscing on how one of them managed to wipe out the entire enemy team, as if Drifter didn’t watch their match. They can’t stop praising his brand new weapon everyone’s currently after and Drifter eats it all up, their blind devotion only making his smile grow bigger.

All this time he doesn’t look up even for a moment to meet your eyes. He rarely does, you know he avoids eye contact as much as he can, but there you are, leaning against the wall, hoping that it will be different this time. You wish you could stare at him forever, but you have to be cautious. Instead, you turn to the Guardians and quickly find yourself unable to look away. You watch them closely, like an apex predator watches its prey, the thought of blinking doesn’t even cross your mind; the hunter is the one your eyes fixate on almost immediately - he’s friendly, a little _too_ friendly, with the his hand wraps around Drifter’s bicep when he wants to get his attention. It’s like watching yourself from someone else’s point of view and you’d probably laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation if you weren’t doing your best to appear as unaffected as possible. Your jaw clenches involuntarily, but you keep that soft smile on your face, pretend your hand doesn’t itch to reach for your knife, pretend your anger isn’t burning you from the inside.

And then, unexpectedly, as your fingers are already trailing along the sheath, Drifter raises his gaze and looks at you, the usual smirk still on his face. You’re convinced that there’s _something_ in his eyes - you can’t name it, you never can, but it's there, undeniably.

The Guardians leave soon enough, but this time you refuse to move out of their way and accidentally bump shoulders with the Hunter who swears under his breath in surprise. You approach Drifter once again, your hand already extended towards him. He seems to understand it immediately, and places the tablet in your hand, an awfully long list flashing on the screen. You take your sweet time scrolling through the bounties, carefully reading each of them, savoring every second Drifter’s eyes remain on you for. It seems as if he’s anticipating your decision, and it’s truly an intoxicating feeling.

After a thorough consideration you hand him the tablet back, pointing at one of the bounties, “I’m in the mood for some invading.” You can swear that you see sparks in his eyes as his hand lands on your shoulder, his grip a little firmer than usually; that’s how you know you’ve made the right choice - he will certainly be watching.

For a few seconds, you’re happy, happier than you’ve ever been in a while. Happier and hopeful. You’re about to say something more, something that’s been on your mind for weeks, if not even months now. Yet before you can speak up, Drifter does, and suddenly it all goes to shit. “See you in Gambit, _kid_.”

It’s one tiny word, but it feels like an avalanche; like a kick in the gut. You know that's what you are to him - just a kid, a foolish little Guardian playing that bizarre game of his, walking right into his trap. And yet… It still hurts to hear it, to be reminded of it just as hope was starting to blossom somewhere inside you. It hurts _so damn much_.

You hear footsteps and enthusiastic chatter on the corridor and in that moment you’re glad the Annex is so crowded today - at least the sound of your heart shattering into a billion pieces will be drowned out by someone’s excited shout. After all, the last thing you want is to make an even bigger fool out of yourself in front of him. You force yourself to smile, despite knowing that it won’t be very convincing, and nod a quick goodbye before leaving the room. You push past a group of Guardians who pay you no mind, wait for them disappear into one of the room and only then you let your emotions take a hold. In an obscured corner, behind a supply crate, you sink to the ground, your hands clutching a jade coin - a gift from Drifter himself, given to you after your first Gambit win. 

You’re a fool. You've brought this upon yourself - you let your heart choose the worst man possible to ache for. But you will still keep coming back here, over and over again, because you like the way it hurts.


End file.
